You survived the worst of it , she had told herself. The parem is out of reach, and now you can stop thinking about it. And she’d managed for a while.
Then last night, when she’d been preparing to cozy up to Cornelis Smeet, she’d made the mistake of using her power. Even with the wig and the flowers and the costume and the corset, she hadn’t quite felt up to the role of seductress. So she’d found a looking glass inside Club Cumulus and attempted to tailor the circles beneath her eyes. It was the first time she’d tried to use her power since her recovery. She’d broken into a sweat from the effort, and as soon as the bruised color faded, the hunger for parem hit, a swift, hard kick to her chest. She’d bent double, clutching the sink, her mind filled with breakneck thoughts of how she could get away, who might have a supply, what she could trade. She’d forced herself to think of the shame on the boat, the future she might be able to make with Matthias, but the thought that had brought her back to sanity was Inej. She owed Inej her life, and there was no way she was leaving her stranded with Van Eck. She wasn’t that person. She refused to be.
Somehow, she had pulled herself together. She splashed water on her face, pinched her cheeks to pinkness. She still looked haggard, but with resolution, she’d hitched up her corset and flashed the brightest smile she could muster. Do this right and Smeet won’t be looking at your face , Nina had told herself, and she’d sailed out the doors to snag herself a pigeon.
But once the job was done, when the information they needed was secured, and everyone had fallen asleep, she’d dug through Matthias’ few belongings, through the pockets of his clothes, her frustration growing with every passing second. She hated him. She hated Kuwei. She hated this stupid city.
Disgusted with herself, she’d slipped beneath his blankets. Matthias always slept with his back to a wall, a habit from his days in Hellgate. She’d let her hands wander, seeking his pockets, trying to feel along the linings of his trousers.
“Nina?” he’d asked sleepily.
“I’m cold,” she said, her hands continuing their search. She pressed a kiss to his neck, then below his ear. She’d never let herself kiss him this way before. She’d never had the chance. They’d been too busy untangling the skein of suspicion and lust and loyalty that bound them together, and once she’d taken the parem … It was all she could think of, even now. The desire she felt was for the drug, not for the body she felt shift beneath her hands. She didn’t kiss his lips, though. She wouldn’t let parem take that from her too.
He’d groaned slightly. “The others—”
“Everyone is asleep.”
Then he’d seized her hands. “Stop.”
“Matthias—”
“I don’t have it.”
She yanked herself free, shame crawling over her skin like fire over a forest floor. “Then who does?” she hissed.
“Kaz.” She stilled. “Are you going to creep into his bed?”
Nina released a huff of disbelief. “He’d slit my throat.” She wanted to scream her helplessness. There would be no bargaining with Kaz. She couldn’t bully him the way she might have bullied Wylan or plead with him the way she might have managed Jesper.
Fatigue came on suddenly, a yoke at her neck, the exhaustion at least tempering her frantic need. She rested her forehead against Matthias’ chest. “I hate this,” she said. “I hate you a little, drüskelle .”
“I’m used to it. Come here.” He’d wrapped his arms around her and gotten her talking about Ravka, about Inej. He’d distracted her with stories, named the winds that blew across Fjerda, told her of his first meal in the drüskelle hall. At some point, she must have drifted off, because the next thing she knew, she was burrowing her way out of a heavy, dreamless sleep, woken by the sound of the tomb door slamming open.
Matthias and Kaz had returned from the university, holes burned into their clothing from some kind of bomb Wylan had made, Jesper and Wylan close on their heels, wild-eyed and soaked from the spring rain that had begun to fall—with a beefy Kaelish-looking farmer in tow. Nina felt like she’d been given some kind of lovely gift from the Saints, a situation mad and baffling enough to actually distract her.
Though the hunger for parem had dulled since last night’s frenzy, it was still there, and she had no idea how she was going to get through the mission tonight. Seducing Smeet had only been the first part of their plan. Kaz was counting on her, Inej was counting on her. They needed her to be a Corporalnik, not an addict with the shakes who wore herself out with the barest bit of tailoring. But Nina couldn’t think about any of that with Colm Fahey standing there mangling his hat, and Jesper looking like he’d rather be eating a stack of waffles topped with ground glass than facing him, and Kaz … She had no idea what to expect from Kaz. Anger, maybe worse. Kaz didn’t like surprises or potential vulnerabilities, and Jesper’s father was one very stocky, wind-chafed vulnerability.
But after hearing Jesper’s breathless—and, Nina suspected, abbreviated—description of how they’d escaped the university, Kaz simply leaned on his cane and said, “Were you followed?”
“No,” Jesper replied with a decisive shake of his head.
“Wylan?”
Colm bristled. “You doubt my son’s word?”
“It isn’t personal, Da,” said Jesper. “He doubts everyone’s word.”
Kaz’s expression had been unruffled, his rough stone voice so easy and pleasant that Nina felt the hair rise on her arms. “Apologies, Mister Fahey. A habit one develops in the Barrel. Trust but verify.”
“Or don’t trust at all,” muttered Matthias.
“Wylan?” Kaz repeated.
Wylan set his satchel down on the table. “If they’d known about the passage, they would have followed us or had people waiting in the printmaker’s shop. We lost them.”
“I counted about ten on the roof,” said Kaz, and Matthias nodded confirmation.
“Sounds right,” said Jesper. “But I can’t be sure. They had the sun at their backs.”
Kaz sat down, his black eyes focused on Jesper’s father. “You were the bait.”
“Pardon, lad?”
“The bank called in your loan?”
Colm blinked, surprised. “Well, yes, as a matter of fact, they sent me a rather sternly worded letter that I’d become an unstable credit risk. They said that if I didn’t pay in full, they would be forced to take legal action.” He turned to his son. “I wrote to you, Jes.” His voice was confused, not accusing.
“I … I haven’t been able to collect mail.” After Jesper had stopped attending university, had he still managed to receive letters there? Nina wondered how he’d maintained this ruse for so long. It would have been made easier by the fact that Colm was an ocean away—and by his desire to believe in his son. An easy mark , Nina thought sadly. No matter his reasons, Jesper had been conning his own father.
“Jesper—” said Colm.
“I was trying to get the money, Da.”
“They’re threatening to take the farm.”
Jesper’s eyes were firmly fixed on the tomb floor. “I was close. I am close.”
“To the money?” Now Nina heard Colm’s frustration. “We’re sitting in a tomb. We were just shot at.”
“What got you on a ship to Ketterdam?” Kaz asked.
“The bank moved up the collection date!” Colm said indignantly. “Simply said I’d run out of time. I tried to reach Jesper, but when there was no reply, I thought—”
“You thought you’d see what your brilliant boy was up to here on the dark streets of Ketterdam.”
“I feared the worst. The city does have a reputation.”
“Well deserved, I promise you,” said Kaz. “And when you arrived?”
“I made inquiries at the university. They said he wasn’t enrolled, so I went to the constabulary.”
Jesper winced. “Oh, Da. The stadwatch ?”
Colm crushed his hat with fresh vigor. “And where was I supposed to go, Jes? You know how dangerous it is for … for someone like you.”
“Da,” Jesper said, looking his father in the eye at last. “You didn’t tell them I’m—”
“Of course not!”